Betrothed
by Erkith
Summary: When Tlanth's future hangs in the balance, Mel's niece, Shayla, is betrothed to her worst enemy. The Nightmare becomes worse yet when the fate of Remalna falls into their hands, binding them with a duty stronger than the gold ring they fight.
1. Tlanth's Hope

**A/N from Erkith**: As a warning, my readers from TP's can tell you that I sometimes don't update my fics for months, which has earned me many a rotten apple. I will however TRY, and am more likely to succeed with summer coming and all, so please be patient... on the other hand, feel free to kick my butt by email or review (might speed me up). Thanks go to Wake-Robin (where are you?) and the co-authors of "Pirate Princess" 

_You inspire the rest of us_

Erkith

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**Betrothed**

Chapter One: Tlanth's Hope

"You must be joking!" I screamed it – literally.

But, no, they were **not** joking. My parents don't play that kind of court game.

I cannot believe this is happening to me. ME! The future Countess of Tlanth! I'm the youngest niece of the Royal Family, the Duchies of Savona, and direct descendant of two very popular royal houses. How **dare** they do this to me!

Me, me, me. Life, I sound like Cousin Tara! I shudder to think of it.

But really, can you blame me? Oh... I haven't explained yet, have I? I'm just so... angry!

Basically, my wicked stepmother has just convinced my father to betroth me. Betroth me, nonetheless, to the last possible person I would ever – **EVER** – choose.

This is all her fault! Nita 'The Wonderful' is a mean, stupid, prissy and bitchy 'Lady' I'll never bring myself to like. I swear; if she hadn't come along we would never have been this far in debt! She's absolutely despicable with nary a redeeming trait! She gossips, buys extravagant clothes almost daily, hosts endless strings of parties, and she's endowed many of the same flaws onto my sister, Kitten. Does she think our coin grows out of our very flesh?

Of course – to be fair – I'm not sure Nita is even aware just how much our funds she tosses out with the refuse of each our frequent visitors. My father never denies her anything, why should she think about it? Tlanth is becoming quite the picturesque vacationing spot for the Remalnan Court. With the history of my Aunt Mel and her revolution, the new roads, and the added mystique of the colorwoods and Treefolk, it is little wonder why.

It is; however, costing us more than we can afford. Even, my father who is notoriously bad at managing our coin has taken note of this issue. He agrees something must be done, but has not yet warmed to my idea of sending the Courtiers to the Inn. I've been pushing the idea of charging, as well, but even **I** think that is, perhaps, too much to ask.

If only Mother was alive...

She'd never have stood for this madness! Nimiar Astiar, the Countess of Tlanth, would have found some way to make the in column surpass the out column. Something I've yet to accomplish.

As a popular centre of the Realm, one would think it would be easy, but you see fashions change all the time, and it would hardly do for even one gown to be out of date... Or so the women in my household whine in my father's ear as they order trunks of fabric and jewels.

We have rich lands and our taxes are fair, but the bounty does know ends! It cannot support such abuse! I'm sure I've never seen Kit wear any of the five ball gowns she owns more than once this year! We live so far from court. Why in the light's name must she have so many?

Tlanth could become a prosperous property again; the lands are rich and fertile, the commerce is strong, but Lord Branaric Astiar, my father, must do something! Our tills are falling to negatives, and he does naught. I fear that the only hope for Tlanth lies with me...

Shayla Astiar.

And they're sending me away.

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**A/N: **Please review. They make me happy : D and happy writers feel guilty about not writing...

Erkith


	2. Betrayed

Disclaimer: Some characters, some places, the world, and some basic plot based around CCD. Credit goes to Sherwood Smith for the creation of the afore mentioned. I claim nothing but an over-active imagination. 

**A/N from Erkith:** Wow! Not tooo long, in comparison to some of my other fics... if you've read them... I updated them last week, so Betrothed was this week. I hope to get two more chaps of each story out before August... wish me luck and PLEASE REVIEW!

I'm thinking about writing a Mel/Danric fic... any coments?

Erkith

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**Betrothed**

Chapter Two: Betrayal

I hid up in my room the night that I wrote that and the following day too. Or at least, that's what they thought. My family can be so naive. Shayla Astiar holed up in a room for two days? Not bloody likely. That would almost be as bad as **me** marrying Coriander of Eldenwood! That should have been synonymous with very unlikely, impossible even. Unfortunately, my parents seemed to be blind to this.

On the third day, it was raining but I still slipped out my window and ran for the forest. It was filled with our colorwoods. Luminous and magical shades surrounded me, beating back the grey sky, though the rain still fell through. I was soaked. My dark hair stuck to my shivering body as I sang the Hill Folk songs I knew so well. I heard the read pipes and knew instantly that they surrounded me.

I didn't open my eyes, and I didn't move. I didn't need to.

The beauty of our song surrounded us. Pulling us together in a way that words alone never could. I could see them bathed in green light; their lithe and graceful bodies swaying to the beat. Behind my lids the world rotated slowly, and I saw each of their wise, ethereal faces. They were vaguely familiar, for I'd seen them all before. As we chanted, the world spun faster and faster, blurring until nothing but whirling colours could be seen. For an instant, as the music climbed to its final notes, we were the ground, the air, the sky, and the rain.

The awareness and power faded slowly from the clearing, and I knew that once again I was alone.

I just sat there for half a candle with my head on my knees crying and rocking myself. I wiped a hand across my face, smearing some mud into the rain and tears already on it.

"Well," I sniffed, "that was quite the farewell."

I got to my feet slowly. There was no need to rush. I wasn't going to get any wetter than I already was. My hair, blackened and soaking, hung around my face in strings. My clothes clung to my very modest curves and clammy skin. And worse, I could feel myself shaking with cold.

"Ugh!" I felt awful.

The snap of a broken twig carried through the forest. "Shay?"

Alec. "Yeah? I'm over here."

Alec made his way over. I could hear a few curses as he became a little too friendly with the thistle thorn on my right. He pulled himself free and stumbled into the clearing. Shaking his dark hair out of his eyes, he looked me up and down and raised his eyebrows.

I glanced down at myself. I looked like a drowned cat. "Not a word," I warned him.

Alec's lips twitched. "Your lips are becoming the same colour as your eyes."

I laughed. He exaggerated of course, for it wasn't possible for them to become quite that blue. I have the same eyes as my famous Aunt Mel – blunt, no doubt about it, blue.

"Here." He tucked a blanket he'd brought around me.

"How d..d..did you f..f..f..find me?" My teeth were chattering pretty badly at this point.

"I went to the house." He paused to help me down a crumbly piece of slope. We weren't walking the main path, and it was a bit steep in parts. Not a bit of trouble if you have both hands to work with and shoes on... since I had neither, Alec was good enough to help me.

"And..?"

"They told me that you'd bound yourself to your room the last few days." He looked at me; his eyes sharply amused. "So I asked myself... Shayla Astiar holed up in a room for days?" He laughed. "I grabbed a blanket and headed up here."

I smiled. I might fool my parents, but Alec knew me better. We'd been best friends since my first court visit so many years ago. Nothing would ever separate us, or so I thought...

We were losing light by the time Castle Tlanth came into view. There were two carriages sitting outside the garrison – two **extra** carriages. Alec. I turned on him fast.

Crossing my arms, I said, "Alright, Alec. Try explaining why you're here two days early, or better yet, try explaining why I have a very bad feeling that if I go down there I will wish I had run back into those woods right now."

He winced.

"Let me guess," I said, angrily. "You found out about my betrothal and came to find me so you could calm me down."

He looked away.

I swore. "Who told you?" When he didn't answer, I shoved him hard.

Alec, unwilling to push me back, held up his hands in surrender. "Anders said you weren't going to be happy about this... I'm so sorry, Shay. I know how much you don't like him."

"Eldenwood. Eldenwood told you. He **told** you?"

"Anders could hardly hide it from me, Shay." Alec scrambled to defend his friend, my enemy. "After all, I was staying in his house!"

I glared at him. Traitor.

"He's really not that bad once you get to know him." Alec glanced down towards the castle nervously.

A chill shook me down to my bones. A terrible thought had occurred to me... "Light protect me. He's down there, isn't he? You brought him with you. You did, didn't you?" A horribly guilty look painted his face.

"Shay, I..."

That's all he got to say before I shoved him back, hard. Hard enough that Alec was still sprawled on the ground by the time I'd sprinted down the rest of the hill and scurried into the building.

Tears stung my eyes, turning the Fire Sticks into mere blurs of light.

I'd never felt more betrayed in my life.

At sundown, Papa brushed aside my tapestry and my sole line of defence with it. He ran a hand through his red-brown hair, and I touched my darker, almost black locks in self-conscious reaction. I've always wished I had that red-brown.

"Enough," he said, gruffly. "Your mother and I have let you sulk for three days in this room. Your mother thinks..."

I closed my book with a snap. "She's **not** my mother."

Papa blinked. He looked surprised; as if he'd never realised I'd ever harbour such feelings. He probably hadn't. Papa could miss a lot if he didn't want to see it. "Shay, she's the only mother you've ever known."

And that was supposed to mean what? Nita was not my mother. Kit's, maybe. But definitely not mine!

But as far as Papa was concerned that was settled, so he continued. "We have guests and it's high time you met them."

I shook my head stubbornly.

"Burn it, Child! You're as bad as your Aunt!"

Did he think that insulted me? I **loved** my Aunt. I crossed my arms, the book crushed against my chest. I didn't care what he said. I wasn't going down there.

"Shayla Astiar get yourself dressed and down to supper! Eldenwood's family is here and they'll want to see you. And you have poor Alec at his wit's ends. Muttering something about you hating him now... He's inconsolable!" My father said with exasperation.

"But, Papa..."

"Now, Shayla!" He said and left.

I glared at the doorway and it's swinging tapestry. I took two deep breaths; then I screamed into my pillow. All right, I thought to myself consolingly, I'm Tlanth's heir; I can do this. But we'll do this my way.

I picked up the dinner gown that Renn, my maid, had laid out for me.

My feet felt heavy, or maybe it was just my heart. Beyond the doors at the end of this wing lay the dining room – and my future. I closed my eyes. My slippers whispered softly against the stone floor, creating a contrast to the voices and quiet laughter radiating from the doors. I stopped in front of them.

The servants waiting by the imposing wooden doors seemed to sense that I needed a moment because they did not move to open them. I heard the efficient tap of a woman's heals as she came up behind me, and I steeled myself against a scolding – the last thing I needed at this point. A warm capable hand squeezed my arm gently as the lady passed. The doors parted for House Mistress Oria, my Aunt's most trusted and ancient friend, her tray, and me as I followed her in.

Papa sat there with his arm around Nita and Eldenwood's parents and Alec opposite him.

"Oh good, Oria!" Papa said jovially. "Exactly what is needed, as always. To think that once this house was in shambles... it's really quite remarkable, the changes this woman has brought."

Oria smiled, well-used to Papa's bragging. He had a sisterly fondness for her that I've never quite understood. I've always found that connection rather sweet.

Nita; however, did not. The help is help to her and nothing more. "Now really, Branaric," she said in a voice as sweet as sugared strawberries, "I'm sure that Deric and Elenet need not be subjected to such an unflattering description of our home. After all, we do wish that they be comfortable here." Her features became unspeakably lovely as she swept her fan into a mode usually reserved for close friends. "Please do forgive my husband. I love him dearly, but he does tend to prattle about the silliest of things. The house has been restored for nearly two decades." Her laugh was a peal of bells.

I watched from the doorway as my father and our guests laughed lightly with Nita. Oria passed by me, muttering something uncomplimentary about my stepmother.

"I'm sure the accommodations are more than adequate, Lady Anita." Deric Toarvendar of Orbanith assured my stepmother. Was it my imagination or did the Duke look a little annoyed? Perhaps I was not alone in my dislike of Nita.

"You flatter us." Nita's tone said _me_. My disgust deepened, and I wondered how long I could stand here and not be noticed.

Then I heard it – my doom coming ever closer. The click of shoes only two ladies in this house wore echoed in the corridor behind me, and one was already in the room... Kitten burst into the room. Her curls bouncing on shoulders wrapped in a gorgeously tailored and very fashionable blue dinner gown – evidently the best she owned. Light glinted off the jewels sewn to the bodice and skirt. She was my sister. She was beautiful. And she'd just drawn attention to the doorway... and me.

There was a silence as they all looked at me. I could have worn my best dinner gown, but I could not compete with my sister. That's why it was still on the foot of my bed. It was what I **had** worn that stunned them.

Instead of displaying myself in finery, I'd worn a simple white dress adorned only with subtle gold embroidery. The old square neckline and soft material were far more complimentary than any of the current styles on me. It was my mother's before she died.

I didn't look down at myself. I knew what I looked like. My dark hair was swept up in a braided coronet that my Aunt had taught me. I wore no jewellery, carried no fan, and my face was untouched by paint. I lifted my chin slightly, challenging Nita to comment.

I presented nothing but me.

"Your Graces." I said politely, curtsying to the correct degree. No less. No more. I scanned their faces and was relieved to find no insult, for I meant none.

"Countess." Deric smiled as he bowed. What was his game? The Duke knew me from the races, and he had never before addressed me as such.

"You are mistaken, Lord Deric, for I am not yet Countess."

"Are you not?" I smothered a laugh. No, he didn't like Nita. I've always liked the Duke.

"Speaking of prattling husbands..." the Duchess said lightly. I saw her glance at my stepmother and squeeze her husband's hand rather hard.

He winked at her.

Lady Elenet, the Duchess of Grumareth, stepped forward. "I've not yet had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, Lady Shayla, though I've heard rather a lot about you." She spoke quietly, but I could hear the amusement hidden in her tone.

Oh yes, she'd heard of me, and with a son like Eldenwood, not all had been good.

"Please, call me Shay."

"Only if you'll call me Elenet."

"Of course." I replied automatically. Nita's huff at my assumption was bellied by the twitch of the Duchess' lips before she and her husband both greeted Kitten and reseated themselves.

I looked at the others. While it was true that my intent was not to insult the Duke and Duchess, my intentions in wearing the dress were not entirely pure. The dress was for two people's benefit only. The anger underneath Nita's sweet facade was a satisfying strike against her I'd been saving up for years. I'd not yet seen Eldenwood. Where was he? Then I saw my father.

He'd yet to say a word. Papa's eyes were fixed on the dress, unworn since Mother's death so many years ago. I'd never thought about what it would do to him. He suddenly looked so old. Guilt punched through me. Papa was never my target.

I stood for a moment, unsure of my moves. Alec wouldn't meet my eyes. "Alec?"

"That's Lord Alec, Shayla, darling."

Ignoring my resident witch, I watched Alec as his hands gestured subtly behind him. I looked up into the gold eyes of the man leaning against the corner of the room.

Eldenwood.

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**A/N: **I don't think she likes Eldenwood (Coriander "Anders" Toarvendar of Eldenwood) much. I think I'm going to stick to this style of narration although I'm thinking of writing from his pt of view or writing a companion fic from his pt of view... Any thoughts?

PLEASE REVIEW!

Thank you to:

**Wake-Robin:** I am absolutely writing again! I've hit some free time and am finally able to write whenever I want! Such a relief. I hate writing essays for school when I have stories bubbling on the backburner in my brain. As for the emotion, I've decided I prefer it and I'm enjoying writing in 1st person. What are your thoughts on the last A/N? As to your questions... they will be answered in due time : p. lol so you still _think_ she's evil? And get moving on your fic!

**FelSong:** Yes you have indeed read part of it on Mystical Skies. Thank you for reminding me... I'll go post there too. Lol as to inspiration, absolutely, I sit here reading your fics going... what if this happened... or what if she died, etc.

**Rootbeergirl 19: **I'm glad you like it! Please share any ideas or comments at any time. I'm not sure how long this will be... lets just say as long as it takes, which could be between 15 – 20 chaps I think...


	3. Branded

**Disclaimer: **Some characters, some places, the world, and some basic plot based around CCD. Credit goes to Sherwood Smith for the creation of the afore mentioned. I claim nothing but an over-active imagination.

**A/N from Erkith**: Thank you to all my lovely reviewers and readers (who vastly outnumber my reviewers... 9 reviews... 106 hits lol). Yay! An update! I've got sort of mixed feelings about this, since I was supposed to go on a date tonight instead of finishing this... guess we know what happened there. _Sigh_. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy more **Betrothed**, and _achem_ **review**.

_Erkith_

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**Recap:**

Ignoring my resident witch, I watched Alec as his hands gestured subtly behind him. I looked up into the gold eyes of the man leaning against the corner of the room.

Eldenwood.

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Betrothed **

Chapter Three: Branded

Those eyes held mine, for a moment, before they scanned me head to toe.

I let my own soak in his long, dark frame. The skin slightly tanned through his father's colouring, which was similarly dark. His hair was black, rather than close to it as mine was, but I got stuck again on the eyes. Incredibly gold.

Our eyes locked again at the same moment.

Neither of us said a word. Several breaths came and went, but neither of us spoke because we were much too busy glaring at each other. A silence fell over the room. Everyone had frozen. The air was full of sizzling energies.

"Anders!" Kitten broke our tableau by striding, actually with Kit it's really a lot closer to gliding, over to Eldenwood. She took his hands excitedly. "It's been so long!"

I felt a stab of disbelief as my sister smiled up into his handsome face. She was genuinely happy to see him. I mean, yes, of course it was a distraction from the awkward silence, but she wasn't faking the laugh and smile that accompanied her words. Kitten was genuinely happy to see Eldenwood. What **was** the world coming to?

"It has. But the time has been kind to you, Lady, for unless my memory makes a fool of me, you are lovelier than ever." Eldenwood replied with a small smile.

Kit's fan flicked into a motion for unalloyed gratitude. "And unless mine does the same to me, your tongue is quick as ever it was."

"I would never be so bold as to question a lady's memory."

I watched their flirting with morbid fascination. I wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Alec caught my eye, and I lifted an eyebrow in silent question. His lips twitched. Apparently we both found this equally amusing.

I glanced at the others in the room. It's a habit of mine; people have the most interesting reactions. I was not to be disappointed. The Duke's dark eyes caught mine and winked, and Lady Elenet's small smile gave her away; she too was amused by the banter. Papa was frowning, but it was Nita's reaction that was the most fascinating. She was staring straight at me with her fan snapped closed and demanding that I go see her.

Right, I thought sarcastically, and turned my back to her.

"Shayla," Nita said so loudly that I winced. "A word please."

I clenched my teeth and knew that my head had cocked ever so slightly to the right. My danger sign exposed, I turned to her. I let her know without words that if she wasn't careful there was going to be a scene – a big scene, and she already knew I wouldn't care a whit.

I spread my hands. "Certainly."

Nita stopped moving to the door when she realised that I had no intention of following. "Outside," she specified tightly.

I paused in the doorway and swept a general curtsey to the room. "Forgive me," I said blandly. And though I didn't meet them, I could feel Eldenwood's gold eyes measuring me as I left.

"Took your sweet time." Nita said as she dropped the tapestry into place.

I gave her an even look. "Forgive me, but decorum demanded a certain graciousness in exit."

"Like you give a fig!" My stepmother hissed angrily and gestured at my dress with badly surpressed rage. "I had your servant girl..."

"Renn," I interrupted.

"... set out an appropriate dress. And you wear this monstrosity! It's a good twenty years out of date! You're Tlanth's heir, you and should behave like one and not the spoiled brat you are."

I gave the witch a long, cool look. "Spoiled?" I repeated. I was spoiled? Well, then I wouldn't wish such spoiling upon even the worst of my enemies. "Look at yourself, Nita. Dressed from head to toe in the finest of fabrics and gems and painted up like a doll. The only work you ever do is lecturing me on proper behaviour, which incidentally brings no income into the family. Oh, and of course, spending our money!"

She slapped me hard across the face. "You ungrateful wretch! You will not speak to me like that! I'm your mother!"

It stung. Oh, it stung and burned across my cheek as if branding it.

Furious, I lowered the hand that had risen to my face, and said in a low, hard tone. "I have no mother."

"I am your mother! I feed and clothe you and keep a roof over your head..."

"Really?" I stepped towards her, forcing her to take a step in retreat. "I was under the impression that the staff fed and cared for me, and – as **I** do the finances – that it would be **me** who kept a roof over **your** head. As for clothing, it's no secret that you've done the bare minimum for me."

She was stunned silent by my sudden defiance, so I continued somewhat bitterly. "I actually bought it for a while. You know the "Kit's the heir, so she must shine" thing. I didn't actually mind that much until I took over the finances myself. Then I realised you spend just as much on yourself, if not more, and as I got older it got worse, Nita. Even when it became apparent that I was to be Tlanth's heir you countered by forcing unflattering styles onto me."

"You ungrateful..."

"Quiet!" The order rocked through me, as natural as breathing. I'd had more than enough of her.

"I was going to let it go, Nita. I really was. You would be flattered by the amount of excuses I made for you, but in truth that's exactly what they were – excuses. I suspected it for a long while. But I knew for sure when I confronted you with the ledgers in the library last month.

"Do you remember what you told me?" I asked contemptuously. I watched with growing disgust as she shook her head. "You told me that it was of no great importance, and that all I had to do was raise my taxes."

I glared at her with unveiled hatred. My emotions were fire hot. Raise taxes. No trouble at all, the peasants can afford to pay a bit more. And if we need more? Well, just raise them again! Why not? **Why not!** Didn't she realise that that's how it starts? The greed that spreads like wildfire through a prairie field...

"But you knew, didn't you, Nita, that I wasn't going to let this go. You knew, and so you convinced father to betroth me. Don't pretend you can't fathom the price for that."

The room echoed my anger in its stones even after I left.

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The corridor was much cooler than the room I'd just left. I paced up and down it a couple times to break the worst of my temper before entering the dinning room that was only two dozen paces beyond the room where I'd left Nita. 

I approached the great doors with confidence born of anger. Inside, the excited conversation was about horses, naturally, with the Duke – well, technically the Count – of Orbanith present. There was nothing Deric liked more than the races.

I joined them, careful to keep my left cheek turned away. I was thankful for the flickering light, for it hid what I was sure was a large red mark where she'd hit me.

Nita declined her invitation to dinner, and sent a very terse Oria to claim illness. The others gave me a few curious looks, but they made no reference to our conversation.

I rather enjoyed the company. Eldenwood was careful not to catch my gaze, speak to me, or even challenge anything I said, and I did the same. So dinner past quite agreeably. And Alec had seated himself in front of me, so when we tired of the adults' conversation we held our own.

Occasionally curiosity got the better of me and I would glance in Eldenwood's direction for a moment to find him absorbed in something else. He didn't notice my attention. We were pulling this off rather nicely, I thought. When two people are equally involved in not speaking, it becomes a rather effective method of avoiding argument.

I thought none were the wiser. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

"Branaric," Lady Elenet said in her soft tones. "I've not yet had a chance to see all the lovely repairs."

My shoulders tensed, and I looked at her with thinly veiled horror. I knew where she was going with this.

My father gave her an excited look. He was always willing to display Oria's work.

"I'd be happy to give you a tour, Elenet." I said quickly. But it wasn't going to help me. There was a small smile gracing her mouth.

"Oh, I don't believe that's necessary, dear child. I'm sure your father and Alec would be most happy to show me."

Papa was nodding enthusiastically. "Indeed." He said in a voice brimming with good cheer. "You could hardly show them what's new, Shayla. Light! You weren't even born yet!"

"Wonderful!" Elenet murmured, ignoring my accusing stare and rising to her feet. "Come, Deric. Alec."

I followed them to the doors. In a last effort, known only to the desperate, I appealed to the Duke. "Would you care for a cup of coffee, Deric?"

He smiled. "I would," he said, "but my wife's likely to get impatient with me. Perhaps Mistress Oria or Julen could whip some up for me later."

"Undoubtedly."

I admitted defeat. It was a conspiracy.

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The doors shut with an omnious clank, leaving me staring at them. I was alone with Eldenwood. 

I felt his breath stir the hairs on the back of my neck as he whispered in my ear. "Well that was subtle."

I startled away from him. Unspeakably unnerved by his unexpected proximity. "And to think I was starting to like your parents, Eldenwood."

"Actually, Tlanth, I was referring to the coffee." It was said very mildly, but it still stung.

"Oh, you're a fine one to lecture on subtlety!"

Both of us must have snapped back to the time that I referenced, because neither of us spoke for a moment.

"True enough."

It was said quietly, and for some incomprehensible reason it made me feel worse.

"Shall we propose a truce?" Eldenwood asked, watching me. Those golden eyes of his were slightly narrowed in a manner that reminded me of the way a cat observes a mouse.

I glared at him. "Why ever would I agree to do that?"

An eyebrow lifted in mocking question as he replied. "One would think that an obvious lack of restraint of our tempers could lead to some difficulties in future. Or perhaps you have not noticed that every time we cross words, so to speak, it results in an unpleasant scene."

"I'd rather not speak to you at all."

"The problem with us being married, Tlanth, is that we will be forced to speak to each other on occasion."

"I hardly think it's **the** problem. Believe me, Eldenwood, when I say that I can name dozens of problems with us being married."

"I don't doubt it, Lady. However, for one reason or another we both need this to work, so..."

It was pretty darn clear why I needed it, but him... what possible use could Tlanth be to a family composed of counts and duchies? Leave that for another time, I told myself. "Alright, we will speak and be civil in public."

"Thank you."

I could feel a major headache settling in. "Could we discuss the rest later?" Like at a time when no one's drilling a hole into my head? I thought sourly.

"At your convenience, Tlanth."

I moved to the doors and was about to rap on them to be let through when I heard him speak again.

"Lady."

The tenderness in his voice called me back. Tears threatened to spill over and storm as he lay a hand gently against my left cheek.

"She shouldn't have hurt you."

I escaped to my room and the darkness. What was I supposed to say to that?

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**A/N:** Good? Bad? Ugly? Let me know! And feel free to flood me with ideas! REVIEW! Pretty pretty please! 

THANK YOU TO MY REVIEWERS

**Gwendeleryn:** Thank you for the wonderful review! I really loved the Hill Folk and thought there should be more of them in the series... lol draw your own conclusions as to what that means. I like the idea for Eldenwoods pt of view, and if I use it, it will be in a couple chaps... although the companion fic would work better... the Mel and Danric fic would pick up where Court Duel leaves off. Again thanks for reviewing!

**Wake-Robin**: Hey I updated... soon for me! lol stepmom is most definitely evil! I swear I have no idea where the slap came from though... seemed like the right thing at the time. As to Bran loving her... well you'll see _cackles evily_ lol couldn't resist. You MUST update! And I'll get down to the Mel/Danric asap (could mean january : p)

**FelSong**: Coriander is indeed an herb that means... _scrambles around in papers_... lol I'll get back to you on that... I have it written somewhere. And I think it's a pretty name too. Lol glad you like Shay... you're supposed to : p About the Elenet/Deric – oops! But, anyways, thank you for the advice with the love/hate thing! Have any more useful tips?

**Seeker 143**: lol you think she stuck up to Nita then... lol what you must think now! Please do review and tell me! I'm going to put more of Coriander (lol who is fated to be called Eldenwood for quite some time) in the next chaps. And as I said earlier... possibly a companion fic from his pt of view.

**Cinnamon**: lol Cruel and unfeeling? Lol try exhausted and numb! I write really late at night. Lol not that I take offense – very used to it as my Tamora Pierce readers complain about my cliffies regularly... lol poor things.

**Rootbeergirl19**: Glad you're so happy about that! Lol thanks for reviewing, it's nice to know someone gives enough of a damn to take 30 seconds to review.

**Please review! Please review! Please review! Please review! Please review!**


	4. A Wager

Disclaimer: Some characters, plot, world, etc. are taken from Sherwood Smith's CCD. I claim no ownership over anything but my imagination. 

**Author's Note from Erkith: **Well it's not quite July, but at least it's not September or something... again I seem to be posting on nights that I have dates cancelled _rolls eyes at self_ very pathetic. On the bright side, I am updating:D YAY! So I'd like to thank my readers and reviewers for patience and inspiration!

Enjoy!

_**Erkith**_

* * *

**Betrothed**

Chapter Three: A Wager

Wind brushed over the old stones of Tlanth's castle, and pulled my hair across my face. The light spray of wind-whipped rain created a soft bristle that smoothed out the small waves, leaving them long, straight and damp. I pressed my hand gingerly to my left cheek that stung as the elements combed over me and found the knot of pain.

Looking out over those walls into the forbidding grey mist, I watched the colourwoods of our mountains sway gently – almost magestically in dramatic and colourful defiance of the dreary day around them. The sight was one I took in greedily. I knew it might be a long time until I could return home and surround myself with the simple beauty to be found there.

The air was charged with the magic that brought the soft music of the windpipes. It stirred over my skin, raising the hair on the back of my neck. The magic, the song, both spoke a sadness that was unburdened by words. There are no double-meanings to be hidden when one deals with the Hill Folk, which is a sharp contrast against the speech found at court and currently within my home.

The Hill Folk were sad because they knew, in that way of theirs, that I was leaving. They were saying goodbye. I longed to sing out to them in comfort and to be comforted, but I had already made my farewell.

So I listened. Eyes closed against buffeting rain, I fell into the darkness beneath my lids and let my friends' tribute flow through me.

It was some time before I heard the woman who had joined me on the walls. Her soft voice drowned in the competing forces of wind and rain. I turned to the Duchess; almost astonished that she had followed me out into the cold, for she was dressed far more elegantly than I.

"Lady Elenet," I sketched a curtsy that she returned. Seeing as she didn't seem inclined to explain her presence, I asked. "How may I help you?"

She shrugged. Somehow even that movement strangely graceful. Elenet was the very picture of grace to me; I honestly can't imagine anyone coming closer to the movement of Hill Folk than the Duchess.

I admired her. From what I'd heard from Papa and Alec, Elenet had rescued Grumareth from her late Uncle's abuse. She had rebuilt from the ground the pedistal of respectability and prosperity on which the Duchy rightfully sat again. Of course I admired her! She was an amazing lady, but I hadn't forgotten I was mad at her.

Very mad.

She'd abandoned me with Eldenwood of all people!

"My lady, much as I am honoured by your presence..."

"I thought I asked you to call me Elenet." The Duchess reminded me mildly.

"Elenet, I would greatly prefer in future that you do not force me into the company of your son..."

Elenet raised an elegant brow. "Whom you will most likely be marrying," she pointed out.

I let out an annoyed breath. "I don't suppose there's any point in me asking you not to do what you did last night again, is there?"

"And what was that?"

"Trapping me with him."

"Ah." That small smile touched her lips again. I was sunk. "Not much, no."

I sighed. Joy. I had a feeling that I was going to be around Eldenwood a whole lot more than I would have liked. Not that surprising as I had planned to avoid him as much as possible. Might have worked if he clued in to my tactic, which was likely – possibly the one thing I like about him – but with his mother working against us, the odds had just dropped considerably. I had a feeling that even if the two of us teamed up against her in an unlikely alliance; Elenet would win.

I was going to be stuck with Eldenwood. Ugh!

"Thanks a lot." I said dryly. Court was going to be awful.

Again that smile. It was beginning to equate to wicked humour, small and seemingly innocent though it was. Then it faded as she frowned at the red staining my cheek.

In my horror, I had turned more directly to her, and she had caught a glimpse of it. I glanced away. I didn't want her to pity me. After all, she could not possibly know that when in came to Nita; I held the advantage.

"My dear, what happened? Does your mother know of this?" The concern in her voice was genuine. It startled me. Very few people have ever given such a small injury to my person such importance. Least of all, my "mother" who had inflicted this particular wound.

"I promise you it's nothing."

Again the frown. "Shay. That was not there last night." The Duchess persisted.

I shrugged. Not quite true. It had been there at dinner, but I'd done a better job of hiding it. And this morning, I'd skipped breakfast all together in hope of keeping all, especially the Duchies and Papa from finding out.

Suddenly her eyes widened. "If Anders did that to you, I swear I'll...!"

I held up a hand to reassure her. He was my enemy, but I was not going to let him take the fall for Nita's crimes. Especially after he'd shown that unexpected moment of... human decency. "No, no. I assure you. It has nothing to do with El... your son. He's never raised a hand to me; though I'm sure I've deserved it."

The Duchess sighed. "He's not the type."

"No," I agreed. "He's not."

Elenet seemed to ponder that for a moment, then asked the question fated to end our conversation abruptly. "Shayla. Would you mind telling me why you seem to..." she searched for the words, "be at odds with my son?"

I gave her a flat look. "Yes."

A silence fell. Conversation closed. Elenet paused a moment, evidently hoping that I might change my mind, but eventually she left me to myself. I had no intention of discussing that particular memory with anyone.

* * *

A chill caught me about mid day, but I did not retreat to the castle's warmth, for it was the cold that kept the others away. Only out in the rain could I conceal Nita's cruelty, so I was bound to stay there until night fell, and the castle would be lit by candles and firesticks. I could hide the mark in the flickering lights and shadows. But until then I simply stared out towards the woods that were as much my home as the castle.

The sun was setting when a warmed blanket was wrapped around my numbed body. I didn't turn around, nor did I try to thank my benefactor. Alec was the one who surprised me with blankets after my long bouts of solitude in "inclement weather", as he'd once put it. And if he didn't yet know I'd been hurt, I wasn't about to make it obvious and anger him. Besides, my lips were too cold numbed to speak properly.

Warmth seeped from the cloth, into my body, prickling an awareness that spread from nose to toes. I still got the impression that I'd have a cold on the morrow, but it was much better. I stayed turned away, unsure if Alec had left yet.

When some time had past and the sun was nearly set I felt sure that my benefactor had left. I turned around and froze. I was wrong on two accounts: my benefactor had not left and he was most definitely not Alec.

I glared at Eldenwood. "How did you find me?"

"That's not very polite," he observed.

"My heart bleeds, but I can't quite grasp a reason I should observe social formalities." I retorted.

A dark brow winged up. "I thought we had an agreement, Tlanth."

Here I smiled. I spread my hands, defiantly indicating the overwhelming crowd of invisible friends surrounding us. "I believe I agreed to be civil in public, Eldenwood. See anyone else up here?"

He shrugged, as if he actually cared very little. The motion highlighted his relaxed pose. Arms folded across a black tunic, he leaned against the wall with his legs crossed at the ankles, and still managed to look just a little dangerous.

I glared. "So I repeat. How did you find me?"

"I asked Kitten and your father."

I shook my head. "Try again. Those two couldn't find me if I decided I don't want to be found."

"Which you did today?" Again I was treated to that mocking eyebrow. I had a well-developed hatred for it.

I ignored both comment and expression. Narrowing my eyes, I asked, "Alec told you, didn't he?"

"Why do you say that?"

I had resigned myself to their friendship this morning during my cold reflection; I reminded myself of this fact. Sighing, I said, "Because he's the only one who knows how to find me." Eldenwood looked like he was going to defend his friend... my friend... let's just leave it at Alec the traitorous... our friend. "Don't worry, I won't tell him I know, or kill him, or whatever else you've envisioned."

Golden eyes trapped mine with an unreadable look; then he turned away and walked to the castle entrance. At the door he stopped and called back to me.

"Lady, they're all busy listening to Kitten play the harp upstairs. It's almost dark. Come out of the rain before you get yourself sicker than you're already going to be tomorrow."

I blinked. "Why do you care?"

His head tilted slightly, as if I had missed something quite obvious. "Consider that I might not want to be stuck here tomorrow."

Courtier, I thought with disgust, as I changed out of my sopping clothing. A little mud and they run for their tailors.

* * *

My maid, Renn, helped me pack for the trip to court - a journey I was dreading. I was not fool enough to believe that I could escape Eldenwood's presence. There were only so many carriages after all, and the Duke and Duchess seemed bent on manuvering us together.

In short, I was doomed from the start.

However, a thought occurred to me. There was no reason I had to be in a carriage. Nita was wisely keeping her distance, so she wouldn't protest if I rode. The more I thought about it; the more it seemed to be the correct solution. The Duke himself might join me, which would be challenging.

He would no doubt insist on a race. Lord Deric Toarvendar was not put off by a little mud, having also grown up on horseback in the mountains, where mud was a way of life.

It was the perfect plan. Until...

"You're riding?"

I nodded dumbly.

Eldenwood had ridden up beside me on a chestnut mare. "Carriage rides on country roads."

I understood, wishing I didn't. I had a similar opinion. Carriages were terribly jolting on the poorly paved mountain roads, but at the moment it was unfortunate that he agreed. "I see."

Those gold eyes watched me closely, examining me much the way traders do with horses. Judging the strength and stamina of the creature involved. The eyes dropped lower – to the animal beneath me. They assessed my black mare with the sharp intelligence, for which Eldenwood was known among friends.

"How about a wager?"

Eyes narrowed I said softly, "You dare."

A small wince went through him.

"Shay! Anders! What are you two talking about? You're not yelling!" Alec's voice was mockingly shocked. He dropped his jaw comically.

"We were discussing a wager." Eldenwood answered evenly.

"Really?" Alec rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He too was seated on a horse. One, which I privately thought, would be left in our dust. "Stakes?"

"We hadn't set any." A wager was okay as long as it had little to do with Eldenwood.

"Hmm... how about the winner gets to chose the losers' price."

Eldenwood laughed. "Not a chance, Alec. We're not stupid."

Alec sighed dramatically.

"Personally, I prefer to work with prizes rather than prices." I added.

"So does Anders," Alec informed me, raising a brow. A comment was set to spill from his lips.

"Not if you value your life," I warned my friend. I was not in the mood to be teased.

"How about the loser hosts a party, and the winners are the guests of honour, but they have to dance at least once during the party," Alec suggested.

"Together?" I asked.

"Naturally." Eldenwood replied.

"Do we have an accord?" Alec grinned.

I nodded. As stakes go, these were not bad. I'd been victim of worse...

"Try not to fall too far behind, Tlanth." Eldenwood taunted as his mare broke into a run.

I wouldn't. After all, Aunt Mel had taught me that short cut. Black Rose and I would be right behind him, until I made my move – then we would see.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm really iffie about this chapter. Please review and let me know what you thinkPLEASE REVIEW! 

THANK YOU TO MY REVIEWERS

**Swimgal:** thanks for the review! Unfortunately, the reason for their enmity is still under wraps, but maybe next chapter it'll fit...

**Mel:** I'll try to work in the reason next chapter, but the problem is that Shay and Anders haven't explained the animosity to anyone.

**Felsong:** I sent you an email answering all this, I think... didn't I? I don't remember. If I didn't review and let me know and I'll answer the Q's along with any new ones... providing it doesn't involve telling you my plot!

**Wake-Robin:** Nita/Bran relationship should be revealed soon, such as it is... and I'm STILL waiting for that update! Grrrrrr!

**Rootbeergirl19:** I know, isn't it shocking? He has a shred of decency in him! I'm seriously considering a companion fic from his pt of view...

**Autumn Fairy:** So many good questions! Yes Eldenwood is one of his titles (he's a Baron... also the son of a count and a duchess... lots of choices in titles :D) As to the "Lady" "My Lady" Coriander is not being polite... it is meant to be just this side of disrespectful or sarcastic. Lady is a term he reserves for Shayla (the thorn in his side) : p! As to betrothal, that will come soon, but think of it this way. Tlanth becomes part of Eldenwood's lands, therefore they are under his protection and fortune...

**Cinnamon:** lol the land names certainly have ring don't they.

**Racetrack's Goil: **Thank you for the compliments! Shayla is loosely based on Mel because she's related to her, but I'm trying to keep her from becoming Mel reincarnate... after all she did have Nee as a mother and some court training – unlike our Mel. She's a bit more polished.

**Luckylola: **Thank you for reviewing and the compliments! I throwing twists on things that happened when they come up again... the wager etc. let me know what you think...

**OneSassyPickle:** I guess the companion fic would explain the unexpected kindness, but I agree with you. I tried to tone it down a little in this one. Giving him more edges as we go along. Let me know if I'm still going to fast. Thanks for reviewing!

**Midnight Knight:** Glad you like Shayla! I really enjoy the manners in CCD, so I'm working them into this fic. Besides Shayla knows more about court than Mel ever did at her age, so the manners should be there, don't you think?

**Callie:** Thanks for reviewing yet another of my fics! You've read them all! Didn't quite get the original character comment... Shayla doesn't actually exist in the book. If you're referring to the first chap, then it was written during the event, not as a memoir like the rest. And lol I like Eldenwood... I can't make him mean...

**StardustPixie:** Wait until I explain why there's the tension... I'm looking forward to writing it! Thanks for the review!

**Gwendeleryn:** lol Family Bonding? We just call it camping :D! And yes Nita is a hate character... beyond doubt. Lol as to the title... doesn't make much sense... he's a Baron and is the son of a Duchess and Count... really doesn't need the title, but good guess. Lol thought I'd twist the race by adding a third party. Shayla and Eldenwood have wager issues, so they'd never race without a third party... (HINT HINT) lol and tempting as it is to throw Nita of a castle... I'm going to write the companion fic... just don't know when I'll start posting it... wouldn't do to give too much double sided pt of view...

PLEASE REVIEW! 


	5. A Taste of Revenge

**Disclaimer: **Some characters, the world, some basic plot, some ideas, etc are derived from SS's CCD series. I claim no ownership of anything except an over-active imagination and I compulsion to write.

**Author's Note from Erkith: **This one comes very soon after the last update, simply because I cliffhangered my writing, and felt no inspiration to write my other fics – just this one. I hope you enjoy, what a chapter that is (I hope) not too predictable.

_**Erkith**_

Recap: "Try not to fall too far behind, Tlanth." Eldenwood taunted as his mare broke into a run.

I wouldn't. After all, Aunt Mel had taught me that short cut. Black Rose and I would be right behind him, until I made my move – then we would see.

* * *

**Betrothed**

Chapter 5: A Taste of Revenge

I was laughing as I hit the short cut, knowing that I'd beat them there. At the changing point I had grabbed the first horse – a lively grey mare – and ridden quickly away. In the distance, I could hear Alec shout something to Eldenwood.

"Anders! Where the hell did she go?"

Dirt whipped up behind me. Wind swept through my hair. I felt wild and wonderfully free. I could feel the powerful body of the grey mare as we sped down the path, her muscles rippling with strength and excitement. She knew we were racing, and I was sure her blood pounded just as fiercely as mine.

The countryside was blurred by our speed. I glanced back a couple times to be sure that I had not been followed and that my companions were far, far behind, because my plan would not work if they were close. No one was there.

I pushed the grey a bit more anyway.

Did they really think I was that stupid? That I had not seen through the wager? The first two winners dance indeed! "Hmph!" Well I'd hang them with their own noose, I thought, and doubled my pace.

It was time to make my move...

Several candles later, I arrived at the inn, muddied from head to toe. I dismounted quickly and calmed my mare. I tossed her reins to the stable boy, pressing two coins into his palm. "See that she gets the best grain," I said, patting her softly. "I rode her pretty hard, and she held up wonderfully. Keep the " The boy looked at the coins, at me, at the grey and grinned.

The inn was not what I'd call "well lit", but the glow of firesticks made it bright enough. Besides, the inn had atmosphere. It was the kind of place where one can find quite a variety of patrons. Walking through the common room, I made some polite inquiries, and headed down the hall to the tapestry at the farthest end.

I could hear voices on the other side, laughing, no doubt, about their wonderful trick on me. On how I'd so cleverly run myself into a corner. They must have assumed I had arrived first. Normally, pride would have demanded it. Well, that illusion was easily shattered...

Their laughter died as I walked in, still fully dressed in riding gear.

"Good evening, my lords. I trust you had a most enjoyable journey?" I asked, pulling off my riding cloak and gloves. I turned away to drop them on the small table beside the tapestry and hid my laugh. Stunned is the only word that described them suitably.

Predictably, Eldenwood recovered first. The cool reserve with which he so often treated me was back in place. He assessed me wordlessly. But I got the distinct impression that he was catching on when he leaned back and shifted his gaze to the ceiling. He let out a long breath.

I smirked. Hopefully, he was cursing himself.

Alec finally found his tongue, but his eyes were still wide open. "Shay! How long have you been here? When did you get in?"

I lifted an eyebrow. With a sweeping gesture, I said, "Just now."

"What! Surely not! We were sure you were ahead of us! You took the..." he trailed off with a wince. My smile widened a touch. Apparently Eldenwood was not so interested in the ceiling that he refrained from kicking Alec.

"Unfortunately, it seems I took a wrong turn somewhere, for I passed straight by the town several candles ago, and it took me some time to return. So, as I find your lordships here before me – and considerably better dressed – I believe you gentlemen have won our little wager. Though one must admit that had I known the trail better; it would probably be I who took the prize." I mused with practised good humour. I played my role of gracious defeat to the hilt, knowing that Eldenwood at least would grasp the irony.

They had been planning to lose in order to win, and found that I had stolen their strategy with considerably more style.

"Alec you don't look pleased. I thought for sure that you would brag insufferably." I frowned, or tried to. It was hard when I was already struggling to contain a laugh. "When I heard the laughter issuing from this chamber, I assumed that you already knew of my unfortunate demise. Surely, you did not think I'd already arrived!"

"But..." Alec winced again in pain and glared at Eldenwood – who was showing remarkable indifference and was the veritable picture of innocence. I had to bite down, hard on my lip to stop the bubbling laugh.

"In fact, it hardly makes sense!" I paused dramatically and let confusion flood over my expression. "Unless you gentlemen were laughing over some private wager..." I deliberately let that hang.

"Uh... no."

Alec flushed. I felt a small twinge of pity for him, but it was very, very small. He'd tried to set me up with Eldenwood!

Please note that Eldenwood had not yet said a word. Smart man.

I let my eyes narrow with suspicion, but I picked up my gloves and cloak at the doorway. "I'm going to go change out of these wet clothes. I'll let you know about the party." And with that I left.

I let the tapestry fall closed behind me, but stood for a moment at the entrance. Manners were not going to stop me from listening to this!

"Burn our luck!" Alec cursed. "Who'd have thought Shay'd get lost?"

"Luck?" Eldenwood's self-mocking tone carried through the cloth between us. "Luck had nothing to do with it."

"You're saying she knew?" Alec asked in horror.

"Of course," came the dry reply.

"She's going to hang us."

Smirking, I started to move away. Eldenwood's last words followed me.

"Well that's the thing. She doesn't really have to. We've already hung ourselves."

I returned to my room with the sweet taste of revenge on my grinning lips.

* * *

**A/N:** lol my apologies to poor Felsong and any others who were apalled by the predictability of the wager... I hope you enjoyed the Shay factor :D I certainly had fun writing it, and I suspect rewriting it from Anders' pt of view will be even more fun (I'll be posting a companion fic soon.) It's a bit shorter, but I hope I'll be forgiven...

Thanks for reading! Thanks for reviewing!

THANK YOU TO MY REVIEWERS

**Felsong:** lol I wanted to email you and tell you the wager wasn't as predictable as it seemed! Lol I hope the race was better than you thought it was going to be. Shall I assume that the "conversation with Nimiar" was the conversatioin with Elenet? Lol in any case, thanks!

**Goddess Of The Moon:** I'm glad you've finally tuned into the CD fanfics! There are some awesome ones lying around! As to the Mel/Danric fic... it might have to wait for a bit, but I'll get to it eventually :D I hope you liked the conclusion of the wager... lol and the ball is going to be SO much fun to write lol!

**Syl Rose:** Oh, Shay and Anders are going to grind sparks off each other! Lol glad you liked that chap 4, I struggled with it. Hope this one didn't disappoint!

**WAKE-ROBIN: **My goodness! Get cracking already! Readers are dying here _pretends to melt_ seriously! Consider yourself kicked in the butt! Lol as for the wager of a kiss... was soooooo tempted to do that, but Shay would never have agreed... _sighs_ lol beside if I'd ended it the same way, I'd have to engineer a guy on guy kiss! Not my thing... lol nor theirs!

**StardustPixie:** oh that Nita! I'll have to get her evil juices stirring again :D lol she's so hateable! Lol did you get the loser of the race right? I'll try to explain some of the tension soon...

**Gwendeleryn:** lol glad you liked the chappie! As I told Syl Rose, it was really hard to write, for no explicable reason... lol the wager explanation is around the corner... poor Anders, she keeps throwing the past in his face... not that the courtier crack was undeserved given his comment : p

**Autumn Fairy:** I'm always happy to answer questions! Lol or avoid them if they give away pieces of my plot ; ) Thank you for the compliments! I've always pictured Elenet as a quiet ballerina type with a mean streak. Glad you like the wager, and I hope this update is soon enough :D

**Midnight Knight:** lol all I can say is, Eldenwood was wise to make the truce, because a piece of her mind would have been due! lol somehow the manners are almost worse, aren't they. Put this element of uncertanty into the mix... did she do it deliberately or not...who can tell? _Cough_ besides us and the cynical Anders ; )


	6. Silence and Civility

**Disclaimer:** If I was the author of CCD I would be concentrating on getting more of them written and published… where's Inda? The world and some characters and some general inspiration and basic plot are drawn from SS's CCD series! I claim no ownership of anything other than a compulsive need to write.

**Author's Note from Erkith:** I'm sorry that this chap comes so far behind the last two. I've had it partially written for the last month or so, but I couldn't bring myself to finish it… so I added a couple thousand more words this last week and, well, here it is!

_**Erkith**_

Recap: "You're saying she knew?" Alec asked in horror.

"Of course," came the dry reply.

"She's going to hang us."

Smirking, I started to move away. Eldenwood's last words followed me.

"Well that's the thing. She doesn't really have to. We've already hung ourselves."

I returned to my room with the sweet taste of revenge on my grinning lips.

* * *

**Betrothed**

Chapter 6: Silence and Civility

I was propped on cushions, sipping hot chocolate, and plotting the party with a trace of triumph still lingering on my lips when she walked in without tapping.

Kitten, who takes after my father in many things, believes in barging in uninvited. And having arrived only in time to see the results of our little wager, had come to prod details out of me.

She posed in the doorway. One delicate hand placed firmly on her hip. "Just what did you do to those boys?" she asked, sounding both horrified and excited.

"What makes you think I did anything to them?"

The lovely head tilted, causing her curls – still perfect after the long journey, and I've no idea just how she manages that – to bounce. Her perfectly groomed eyebrows rose as she answered, "Shay, they're sitting in that room down the hall trying to get drunk."

"Are they?" A smile flickered at the corner of my mouth.

"I saw that." Letting out a breath, Kitten plopped herself down on the foot of my bed. She shook her curls. "I knew you were involved." At my shrug, she continued. "After all, who but you has ever driven Anders to drink?"

I laughed.

"Eldenwood drinks," I protested. "With or without my aid."

"Does he? I can't say ever seen him absorbing much wine or punch unless he's argued with you first."

I lifted my shoulders carelessly. "Given that we're discussing Eldenwood, he probably salutes foiled plans in the privacy of his chambers with a bottle reserved for just such purposes. And given your tendency to barge in abruptly, it is no wonder that you've walked in on such a session after I've had words with him."

"You make him sound so calculating." Kitten frowned at me with perplexity. "Anders really isn't all that bad, Shay… He's never hurt anyone 'tis not his nature."

If there is ever a statue entitled: skepticism, my expression on that moment would be a perfect model.

"Oh, don't give me that look. Why do you resent him so?"

Remembering, I pressed my lips together. My gaze dropped to my hands. Tensed around the pen, their knuckles drained of blood. Anger white-hot burned through my veins in place of it. That was something better left unspoken.

Silence. Full with tension, empty of words fell upon us. To end it I said. "So you'll go to the dance with me tonight? You need to brush up on your dancing skills, sister, for you never know when some unsuspecting bachelor will fall victim to your charms. I bet I'll even steal some dances from you this year!"

"Only because I'll be too busy to take them all!" My sister retorted.

I smirked. "Well, of course, you'll be too busy. One can't possibly dance with all the men when one must always watch one's feet."

"You wound me, fair sister. Perhaps, you'll take a wager on it?"

"Nope." I said with a voice brimming with good cheer. "Already lost one today to Alec and Eldenwood."

"What?"

"I believe that's 'Pardon?' and you heard me correctly."

Her eyes were wide with disbelief. "You lost to the two of them?" Her mouth hung open, comically. "I don't believe it! What was the wager?"

"That they could beat me here." I stated simply; I wanted the exact nature of our bargain to remain a secret – for now.

Thankfully, Kitten was too shocked by my loss to consider the brief answer. Again she wore that hybrid look of excitement and horror. "Both of them beat you here… here! Aunt Mel has been racing us here for years! She's going to have a fit!"

I considered that. She would indeed, but it was worth it. I grinned, remembering again the benefits of losing. Besides, I had a nagging feeling that Uncle Danric would approve. It was something he'd do.

* * *

A candle later Kitten was long gone. Probably gone to curl her hair or something. Preparing for a dance – even one as informal and simple as this one – took candles of preparation for her.

I, in turn, had curled up with the book I'd been nursing. I'd only brought one to read on the journey because I can't read in carriages, and Athanarel's library is significantly better stocked than mine. So I was reading it slowly, hoping to make the words span the entire trip.

A knock on the tapestry interrupted me. I looked up, wondering what time it was. I'd asked Renn to come rouse me from my reading half a candle before dinner. Perhaps it was later than I thought.

"Come in." I invited, and looked down to mark my page with a spare ribbon.

I blinked in surprise as I looked up at – not the flamboyant figure of Renn but that of the reserved Coriander of Eldenwood. I raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Tlanth," he greeted with a vague bow.

"Eldenwood." I returned without rising. I watched him as he took in my relaxed attire and loosed hair. In anticipation of dancing, I had left it down so there would be no folds to interfere with Renn's styling. It fell more than halfway down my back, curtaining my face where it wasn't tucked behind my ears.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

He did not answer immediately. Then, "That was very clever."

"I profess confusion as to your topic. Though I find I am reluctant to fend off compliments to my character."

He rolled those gorgeous eyes. "Of course," he said. A sly smile bloomed as he continued with my most hated words. "I forgive your ignorance."

Me? Ignorant? Maybe at the age of twelve, but now? I fairly hissed inside, but denied him an outward reaction. "Thank you," I said dryly.

"I was referring to our wager."

"Where you?" I continued my act, knowing it was petty, but also knowing how much it annoyed him. What can I say? I was unable to resist. I widened my blue eyes to look very naïve and innocent. "What of it?"

He glared at me with fast-fading tolerance. Those gold eyes of his bit into me, but I found it more amusing than disturbing under the circumstances. Enjoying the game, I lowered my eyes to my book, pretending to read it to provoke him further.

Eldenwood's counter-move was to come close to the bed and allow his fingers to trail over my hand as he tilted the book to read the title. The tickle of the long, cold fingers ran shivers across my skin. I shifted, uncomfortably aware of where we were – what I was sitting on.

Eldenwood teased the book from my hands. He flipped through a couple pages. Closing it, he gave both the book and I, its owner, a thoughtful glance. "My sister read this," he said, shaking it lightly. There he paused, and despite myself, I looked at him. "I would not have thought it to your taste."

I blushed but managed to bite back what would have been a stuttering response. Embarrassed, I snatched the romanticized historical fiction from his grasp and muttered, "Well, you've never been particularly astute at guessing my preferences."

"I suppose not," he said neutrally.

Another silence descended upon me - the second of the day. Yet this one was different from the one I had shared with my sister. The silence between Kit and I was uncomfortable due to the question left unanswered. This one became almost companionable, and given the identity of the other involved, that in turn made it far worse.

I broke it rudely, hoping to cancel the moment from memory and further contemplation. "Is that all then?" I asked more curtly than was necessary.

Eldenwood startled at my tone. There was an unreadable look in his eyes as he drew away. "I merely came to see if today's loss was intentional as I had thought." He spread his hands as if that explained everything. Maybe it did.

"And?" I really had trouble resisting the urge to bait him.

He didn't rise to it. "I reserve judgment, Tlanth, for another time."

I shrugged. It mattered very little. We both knew the answer. "The door is that way."

I cracked my book open, leaving it to him, to see himself out. The candle was burning and I wanted to finish my chapter before Renn returned to lift me from its pages. I had thought it was a simple enough task – seeing one's self out, but then his voice interrupted the sentence I'd just begun to read.

"Tlanth."

I sighed and looked up. The harried glare I directed his way had stripped many of Nita's messengers of their courage. The man looked on, unfazed. What now? I thought.

"Who's Alec to you?"

My disbelief was palpable. I was totally and completely shocked. My eyebrows lurched up to a staggering height that wrinkled my forehead. My eyes opened wide. And my mouth hung open even after the verbal expression felt out. "WHAT?"

For the first time, I saw THE Coriander of Eldenwood looking distinctly uneasy. If I hadn't been so stunned at the time, I would have tormented him without mercy.

"We're starting this already?" I asked, looking alarmed. The betrothal was fast becoming too ludicrous to be a nightmare. "How can you? W..w..w.why..? We're not even married yet!" I stood up and paced to dispel my growing nerves.

Usually I get all hot and flustered, the air becomes thick, and my hands start to tingle when I get that upset. I guess I can thank the Light that this time I was able to keep my head.

Honestly! Who did he think he was? Questioning my relationship with Alec… my purely platonic relationship with Alec. He wasn't my father! We weren't married yet! And we hadn't even been hand-fasted in a proper ceremony yet! I didn't answer to him!

So I did the unthinkable: I dropped a book.

Stalking right up to him, I lifted my head proudly. "I don't have to answer that."

"No," he said, once again unshakably calm. "But I would appreciate if you would." When I didn't answer, he turned to leave. My hand banded around his wrist, and in anger, turned him to me.

"Burn it! We're just friends! He's like my older brother!" I stormed. I was ready to hit him for asking me the question – for looking so calm.

He lay a hand gently on my arm. "Alright, thank you for telling me."

I released him. My anger was abating quickly as it had come. I knew what was coming next, and I did not want him here for it. "See yourself out." I said listlessly. He opened his mouth to speak, but I pressed my fingers to his lips to silence him. Gold eyes sent my blues hundreds of unspoken apologies. Whatever else he may be; he was not a monster. He was not insensitive to pain, and was sorry to have inflicted it.

I moved to the bed and lay across it gingerly. My face sank into a pillow and I cried tears of protest at the nightmare that was my waking reality. Mother dead. Owner of a wicked stepmother. Young leader of a bankrupt county. Forced into marriage with my enemy. A man already suspecting my infidelity. The injustice of it all overwhelmed me. So it was some time before the tears stopped flowing and my sobs were reduced to hiccups. I lay there miserable for a good while before I heard it.

The noise of a glass jar against wood, clicked. But all I saw when I turned was a swinging tapestry, and a small object sitting with a note on the table near the door. I pulled myself up to walk over to it.

The glass was smooth and rounded. I unscrewed the lid to the little jar and sniffed the minty, medicinal aroma. Inside was a skin-coloured cream. I looked down at the note.

_Thought you ought to have this. It'll work better than the one you used this morning. Please don't refrain from using it on principle. You will heal faster this way._

There was no signature, but I didn't need one to know the identity of the benefactor. Other men might have added "forgive me" and signed, but not this one.

* * *

Eldenwood's potion did, to my great annoyance, work better at concealing and soothing the bruise on my cheek.

It still marked my face. Nita may be small and pretty, but I'm sure she's taken classes in the art of slapping. I've heard her own grandmother was of a similar temperament, perhaps it is a family secret.

To say that Renn was surprised that my dress and make-up were on when she entered would be a gross understatement. As I recall, she froze in the doorway. But being the cheery little elf I've often thought her, she was quick to take advantage of the situation by styling my hair into a complex, yet not overly formal collection of twists.

I usually don't give her time to appeal to such frivolities, so she was beaming with pride and joy as she perfected her creation. "Beautiful," she said.

"Beautiful," I agreed. I looked at her over my shoulder expectantly. "Aren't you going to get changed?"

Renn gave me a perplexed look. "For what, Shay?"

"Come dancing with us."

"My lady, I couldn't!" Renn protested, but I could tell that the idea appealed to her.

"I thought we were past the 'my lady' stuff, Miss Rennaldorissa Thatcher." I pointed out. Both of us hate our full names. In the name of friendship and peace we'd abandoned them a long time ago.

She winced. "You win. I'll just be a minute."

The dancing was sensational! The music was far livelier than that played at court; although, during Aunt Mel and Uncle Vidanric's reign some formality was dropped. On the whole, dancing was the best part of court life for me, because it is the part that most resembles home.

But here! Pan pipes replaced flutes. Drums and clapping were overloud and energising. The fiddler was a swift, passionate soloist that made the dancers match his pace, rather than slow for them. A girl's clear alto pitched itself through the din to our ears. We lifted our skirts and joined in the crowded dance, laughing uncontrollably as the fiddle marched us along faster and faster. Colours streamed off our clothes as we spun and jumped, dipped and circled the dance through its paces. It was heady! It was powerful! It was exciting! Liberating! The tempo sped on and on until there was no thought left, but merely instinctive movement expressing the emotions of the dance. My feet skipped through the intricate footwork to the beat ever-rising until in a large crescendo of music it finally crashed into its finale.

I blinked as the world refocused for me. I was alone in a circle of people. The last standing. They applauded my dancing, and I – blushing from head to toe – swept a deep curtsey to the room. They laughed and clapped me on the back before dispersing for what seemed to be a slower song. My breathing slowed.

I loved it. When I dance, the world and all its limits and problems fade away for those precious minutes of semi-existence.

"Shay! That was gorgeous!" Alec shouted enthusiastically as he hugged me close. I rested my head on his shoulder, and was surprised when he swept me into a slow dance to the young girl's sweet voice. It was a sad song full of heartbreak and unrequited love. I let my body do the work, while my mind drifted elsewhere.

At the end of the song, I watched Eldenwood offer the girl a gold coin. She was shaking her head, golden curls bouncing and eyes wide with fear. What she thought he wanted, I'm not sure, but he finally convinced her to take it by placing it in her hand, closing her fingers around it and stalking towards me, with temper enflaming the molten gold of his eyes. I was suddenly struck by what the poor girl must have felt – the unease of a small animal facing off a large cat. My pulse jumped.

I turned and walked to the perimeter of the room, seeking safety in numbers. He found me anyway. That sensitive hand of his offered itself to me. "A dance, my lady."

I noticed it wasn't a question. I considered refusing, but then Lady Elenet caught my eye. Her small smile invited me to do it and suffer the consequences. I subsided, choosing the lesser of two evils.

I let him lead me onto the floor and pull me into a slow dance. We danced in silence, perfectly matched in step and pace for several minutes, until my compulsion to ruin the moment surfaced.

"So," I asked, "Who won our little wager? You or Alec?"

He gave me a look that teased out a laugh. "Frankly, I think you won, Lady." He responded dryly.

I smiled. "Undoubtedly. After all, now I get to watch you and Alec humiliate yourselves at court. I shall enjoy it."

"Naturally." He spun me; then leaned down and whispered in my ear. "Why the curiosity?"

I looked up at him, puzzled. "Well, I guess I was wondering if you'd tried to lose to avoid dancing with me." I winced after the words tumbled out. It sounded stupid now that he'd chosen to dance with me of his volition.

A dark brow lifted inquiringly. "You're not that bad a dancer, Tlanth." He ignored my bland stare. Without warning, he led me through a complex variation of the steps and twirls; I kept up with him easily. "See? As dancer, you're not half bad."

Not half bad. Oh, the provocation! Be civil in public. Be civil in public. Must remember to be civil in public. "Eldenwood." I warned. My hand tightened around his, causing him to smirk down at me. I applied more pressure, allowing a thumb nail to rest against the web between his thumb and finger.

"Very well," he said dryly. "I concede. You dance well enough."

Not great as compliments go. Of course, the day Eldenwood actually gives me a straight compliment will be the day I cite him as my best friend, so I expressed my thanks through my loosened grip on his fingers.

The dance swept on – a simple country tune began to meld with the other, and we switched styles simultaneously. Here at least we agree, I thought distractedly. Here we were well-matched. Two dark figures gliding over the floor, challenging each other. I have to admit we made a handsome pair.

At the end of that dance, I drew away. My feet ached. All the racing and dancing had taken its toll on me; it was past time to retire. I curtseyed and was about to turn away when he caught my hand and bowed over it formally.

"Countess. I thank you for the dance." Taken aback by the sudden formality, I stood momentarily pinned still by warm, gold eyes. I still caught the covert examination of my left cheek.

"I'm not Tlanth's Countess. Why does everyone keep calling me Countess?"

Again the eyebrow winged up. "Are you not?" Eldenwood paused to give his words a dramatic flair. He used the moment to lead me away from the dance floor. The guiding hand at the small of my back was a warm and gentle pressure. "How many people live in your county? How many pay taxes? How many tourists at last report?" he asked abruptly.

I rattled off the numbers. "Your point?"

He looked at me for a moment. I got the sense that he was measuring me: my faults, my strengths, my potential. I refused to let my nerves show.

"Does Nita?"

A fair point, I thought as he walked away. A fair point.

* * *

**A/N: **Terribly sorry this is so late, but school caught up with me. I'll try to get more updates out – no guarantees. Next chapter should be at Athanarel with Mel and Danric, Flauvic and Elestra, etc! Plot really begins to develop!

Thanks for reading! Thanks for reviewing!

THANK YOU REVIEWERS!

**!great!**: Hope you enjoy the chapter!

**Gwendeleryn**: Thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying it! This one's super long to make up for the wait and the length of 5

**Swimgal**: I'll try to work in an explanation next chapter… problem is, neither really

wants to talk about it…

**Peri**: please do not _peri_sh! (bad humour)

**Dizzydragon**: I can only agree about the lack of good CCD fics! I do have a C2 for them though… I'm glad you like mine! As to parallels – they are deliberate, but the plot leaves off quite soon for Meliara-land :D I too adore that scene!

**Midnight Knight**: thanks! I couldn't let her win! Not nearly as much fun :p

**Jo**: thank you! I plan to, don't you worry!

**Luckylola**: wait until you see the ones coming up ;)!

**Wake-Robin**: GRRRRRRRRRRRRR! UPDATE ALREADY! Follow even my poor example and you'll be ahead!

**StardustPixie**: Where would be the fun if there weren't a twist to it:D

**Syl Rose**: lol that still cracks me up! I swear she has Danric's sneakiness

**Racetrack's Goil**: Well I'm going with the theory that it's just a rumour, because it's just dumb, but thanx for the concern. I'm glad you like Anders. I'm trying very hard to make him likeable… hard when Shay keeps cursing him.

**Sheyana**: Not a side bet… you'll find out later (sorry I know that's going to bother you) Eldenwood is his land, but Shay uses it as his name.

**Rane**: LOL sorry! Patience is good for you, but I confess to having little of it myself. I've read your suggestions… you may see some in future. Thank you for the compliment to the characters! Lol and try not to get too mad that I don't update ASAP because I have school and other fics (feel free to read them)

**Goddess Of The Moon**: Oh yes, the ball will be spectacular!


	7. Court Wonders

**Disclaimer:** If I was the author of CCD I would be concentrating on getting more of them written and published… where's Inda? The world and some characters and some general inspiration and basic plot are drawn from SS's CCD series! I claim no ownership of anything other than a compulsive need to write.

**Author's Note from Erkith:** First off, I'm SO SORRY! I've been really stuck on this chapter for a really long time and busy and it just wasn't getting done! SO SORRY! I made a nice LONG chappie for you! _Smiles winningly. Prays: "Don't kill me!" _Thank you all for the reviews, they really helped get me started (guilt is a powerful motivator). I solemnly swear that you will get at least one more chapter from this fic before I go on vacation in early August. I SWEAR!

And the last two sections of this chappie are added out of guilt (They were going to be part of the next chapter), so please do review!

Enjoy, as always!

_**Erkith**_

PS. I really am VERY sorry…

* * *

**Betrothed**

Chapter 7: Court Wonders

Athanarel – the king of mosaics of all kinds: ideas, personalities, politics and tiles. That was my first thought, as I dropped onto my bed to stare at the ceiling. I'd only been here for a couple candles, and I already had cause to remember that. Light protect me.

We'd arrived around midday, or at least the riders did. The carriage was accompanied by a great deal of fanfare – that we riders only escaped by a margin – and was somewhat delayed. I was infinitely glad that Nita had not succeeded in forcing me to reside within that vehicle of torture.

That argument had been brief – my father was present, so we had to pull our punches. My darling "mother" was testing the waters again, seeing just how much of my life she could control. Nita took the approach of it being unladylike and coarse to arrive in such a fashion. I pled motion sickness to my father and shot her down nicely. After all, what use was there in decorum if I were green upon alighting?

Papa may have little use for numbers and politics, but is soundly logical on numerous points… useless niceties being one of them. Now if only it extended to Nita… well, one can't win every battle.

But thanks to that victory I had avoided what I considered one of the worst parts of Athanarel – the crowds. I was congratulating myself on this when I was rudely reminded of other court shortcomings.

Cousin Tara met us at the gates. Gliding prettily over the grass, my cousin grasped my hands warmly within hers. "Shayla! How wonderful to have your beauty among us again!" I'm sure she was delighted. Having new meat, a future countess at that, amongst the throng of courtiers didn't bother her at all, did it? I trusted that about as far as I could throw a castle.

Court politics – blah. How good to be back.

I smiled ruefully. "Only another to be eclipsed by yours, cousin." I was tempted to reach for my fan.

Tara's laugh chimed beautifully. "You flatter me, Shayla. And you bring me handsome gifts as well." Her fan appearing as if by wish to cover her mouth and leave only her devastatingly attractive blue eyes to scan the men a step behind me. Her use of the _me_ was not lost on me: Queen of Hearts she was. I fairly sighed; I was definitely back at court.

"Aren't I returning them?" I asked.

Her eyes gleamed with something I'd rather not identify. "Oh, noooo… these two have been on the run for months." I smiled at the term; though I found her voice rather predatory.

"Hardly on the run, Lady Tara. Simply called to duty elsewhere," a cool voice replied, with a lightness I admired. I wondered if he included our betrothal under that heading… the thought wasn't all that bothersome.

I heard Alec stifle a chuckle. They had, indeed, been on the run. Match-making was the post-Galdran court's favourite game. I had this vision of them scurrying for safety, coat tails between their legs – match-making was a scary thing.

"Well, then. May we assume that your presence here heralds a return to the warmth of pleasure rather than the chill of duty?"

It was an odd way to phrase it and aimed directly at him. I barely suppressed the frown.

"As you like." Eldenwood's tone was warm but fell curiously flat to my ears. I glanced at my cousin to see if she'd noticed, but I think perhaps that her mind was too filled with her conquests to notice the inflection.

"Oh, I like." Tara said slyly. "Come, Anders, see me back to my flock, would you? It seems they may finally have decided to return from petitioners' court." She was dismissing me. Interesting. I wasn't going to allow it, but it was interesting.

"I was not under the impression that Gustav and Palin attended the dreary diversions of court life. Your swains abandon you for such monotony, cousin?" I asked lightly. I watched her face. Nothing. "Or are they so delusional as not to fear the favour of my companions upon your grace?"

Her smile maintained its beauty, and her words retained their honey, but her intent had shifted. "I merely sought to be polite, cousin. No doubt, their exact whereabouts may be accounted for, but I never thought to request their presence. After all, we were hardly meeting royalty."

Ah yes, cousin, put me in my place. I am not royalty. Of two royal families, yes, but royalty I am not. How nice of her to point that out. "Of course not," I returned equably, "else wise I could never have escaped the wretched fanfare."

Tara eyed me, uncertain of when and where my reciprocate blow would fall. Let her wait.

I looked past her to where a group of young men gathered. Among them was my royal cousin, Alaraec, but he wouldn't be insulted if I postponed our reunion. In fact, he'd probably welcome my impolitic behaviour so long as it kept me from being close enough to rag him about courting my lovely, lovely cousin.

"Your flock has returned, Tara."

"So they have, indeed." She was not surprised. She had arranged this meeting. She curtseyed to the exact degree of propriety – and unlike my earlier display to the duke and duchess – the insult was tangible and deliberate. "Until our next meeting, Shayla."

She looped her arm through Eldenwood's and strolled away.

Alec and I both sighed. The whole exchange stunk of politics.

"I was under the impression that no one was to know about our engagement." I said tightly. As it was, I doubted my friends would believe the match.

"Darling, not that I object, but I wasn't aware I'd proposed." Alec quipped.

"Ha. Ha." I returned sourly. "Burn it! How does she know?"

Alec gave me a sharp glance. "Did you actually believe you could keep it quiet?"

"No," I snapped back, "But I had hoped the peace might last at least **one** day."

Alec snorted.

He received a glare. "What?"

"With Kitten, Lord Branaric, and the Wicked Witch as your family; how could that possibly work, Shay?"

I closed my eyes. He had a point. "One can dream."

"Not that vividly," Alec retorted.

"Shut up, Alec." I said half laughing and gave him a shove to keep walking.

* * *

We were still sparring when another court wonder reacquainted itself with me – in the form of Renata Caftenar of Turmont – the court matchmaker.

"Is that Shayla Astiar?" Her drawn out pronunciation of my name made me sound like some sort of circus attraction.

I winced. "It is."

The comparison was rather too accurate for comfort. If Turmont had her way, I would indeed be on display in all my dubious splendor.

My hands were swiftly taken and squeezed with familiarity. "Oh my dear, I thought never to see you again, so long the parting." I thought, _if only_, with only a tinge of guilt. "How've you been?"

"Splendid, really."

"Alec, darling, isn't that wondrous?"

The traitor grinned. "Yes, Aunt, it is most fortunate!" His enthusiasm encouraged her; as he'd known it would. Wicked, wicked Alec.

I smiled gamely at Lady Renata, already planning my escape.

"And you've been well, I trust?" I asked.

"Well naturally, dear. There's not a cold to be had here at court."

"I'm glad for it." She was a nice lady. She really was. It's just that I had to escape before…

"You don't travel outside of Tlanth often, do you?"

_Oh. No._ I smiled weakly. "I'm afraid," _very afraid_, I thought, "not much, no."

"I don't suppose there are many eligible men out in Tlanth."

That did it; I was **sunk**.

I tried to ignore Turmont's grinning nephew. "A few."

"No betrothal yet? And you, at your age, with your beauty." She tisked. "Used to be you'd not have lasted a season on the mart. The way things are run these days!" She looked properly offended. The sincerity in her voice stole my horror momentarily.

_How dare they not swarm me_, I mused, trying not to smile. "It is reprehensible."

"Really! You must convince your father to let you remain here in my care when he leaves. I'm sure we can find you an appropriate match."

Alec coughed suspiciously.

All urges to smile faded. "Undoubtedly." I said weakly, in face of her imploration.

She continued on, as if she hadn't heard me. "I rather think, Nadav, might have you…"

"**NADAV?**" Alec objected, abruptly finding the conversation not nearly so funny. "She wouldn't like him at all!"

Lady Renata patted his arm. "Of course, dear. Would you go fetch your Aunt Rena a lily for her chamber, Alec? It's been dreadful dull of late."

"Of course," he answered automatically – there was really no way to refuse. "But she's related to Nadav, Aunt Rena…"

Why, it was almost like he was trying to help me escape… Did he think it would save him from my wrath? I hope not. It'd never do for any friend of mine to be quite that delusional. This was not a case of better late than never. I was already doomed, but it helped that I wasn't the only one perturbed.

"Run along now, Alec, darling."

"Not Nadav, Aunt…"

"Of course not," she soothed, and I have to admit I was fairly admiring of her talent for smoothing ruffled male feathers. "Let me worry about this. You trust me, yes?"

"Yes, Aunt Rena."

"Good." She smiled beatifically.

"But…"

"Now, now, no more of that. Run along and fetch me a nice orange tiger lily, and do say hello to your mother for me…"

She ushered him away. We both watched as he shuffled down the corridor, muttering to himself. We shared an amused glance. We both so loved being the bane of that poor man's existence. And for a moment I was glad to have run into her… of course, then she spoke…

"There, off he goes. Alec is a dear, but he really knows nothing about this, does he? Now as I was saying… Nadav…"

"He truly is my cousin." I offered.

She lifted an eyebrow. "Ah, but the relation is distant, yes?"

She apparently did not require an answer, nor, apparently, any encouragement to proceed to list off a seemingly endless stream of potential prospects and plans to incur their proposals.

No, my input was necessary at all. All I had to do was listen. Lucky me.

It was the longest treck I have **ever** made to my rooms.

* * *

"You don't look rested at all." Kitten noted this when she walked into my room less than a candle later.

I rolled my head to look at her, keeping the rest of my body absolutely still. "Turmont," I muttered.

"Torment?" My sister asked, confused. "Who…?" Curls bounced as she frowned and shook her head in exasperation, "If this is about Anders..."

I waved that away. "For once I may say with uttermost honesty that your esteemed Lord Eldenwood has nothing to do with my state of profoundly miserable existence. Renata of Turmont and Tara were the ones tormenting me."

"Ohhh!"

"Yes, ohhh."

Kitten laughed. When she'd finally sobered enough to speak, she said, "You know, I almost feel sorry for you."

I lifted a brow. "Almost?" I asked.

She smiled, sweetly – never a good sign – and I saw the wicked look in her eyes that said I'd walked right into her verbal trap. Bully for me. "Well, you **are** my sister."

I gave her a soul-weary look that just made her smile grow larger. "To the best of my knowledge, though I have had cause to doubt it at times."

"So I figure you deserve it!" She finished rather cheerfully.

"Lovely." I muttered, returning my gaze to the ceiling.

"I thought so!" Kitten enthused.

Really, being that cheerful is obscene.

"You would."

"Oh, I absolutely do!" She burst into a fit of giggles. "Oh, if you could see your expression!"

I groaned loudly. "That settles it then."

Kit blinked. "Settles what?"

I looked at her with annoyance. "You must be my sister. No one else could possibly be as aggravating as you!"

"Anders?" She offered archly.

I threw her a glare. "I think you may exceed even his powers of irritation, but unfortunately I still have to love you."

"I know," she agreed gleefully, "it must be maddening."

I growled at her. Surely no one was meant to endure this… no court would convict me of soricide under these conditions... too many of them have **siblings**!

If she said another word, I would be forced to lop of those bouncing curls of hers.

But she was smart enough to enjoy her mirth in silence. Until…

"You know, for once, you're free of them both!"

The exclamation had no segway, and I was at a loss for the topic. "Who?"

"Tara and Turmont."

I sat up to blink at her in the purest of astonishments. What could she mean? "Pray tell."

"Well, Tara sees you as competition, but now you're off the market, and the merry marriage matrons can't play matchmaker when you've already got a match."

I stared at her. Sometimes she's smarter than I give her credit for. But wait… that meant… _NO! _"Eldenwood." I said faintly. "You cannot possibly be saying that **the** Coriander Toarvendar of **Eldenwood** is **MY SOLUTION**?"

"Yes!" She found it uproariously funny.

_Eldenwood, who gives me nothing but grief was my savior?_

I dropped back to the bed.

There was a terrible, terrible kind of irony there.

* * *

I woke up to the light tap at the tapestry and groaned. Who wanted to talk to me now? My friends knew better than to swarm me before night fell on the first night, and I didn't think even Eldenwood would be so bold, or actually I just didn't think he'd be that stupid. That left family. Lovely. There are definitely a couple of them I'd rather not see…

"Princess, you're not supposed to be this tired until **after** the ball."

I opened one eye to look at the man standing over my bed. Tall, blond, and innately royal – _alright, I suppose I could talk to this one_. I opened the other eye.

"Decided to talk, have you?"

I yawned. "I suppose I could spare you a moment, Uncle Danric."

His lips assumed a wry smile. "Thank you ever so much."

I grinned. "It your own fault if I'm irreverent. You're the one who keeps telling me you're tired of people worshipping the ground you've trodden."

"Surely you mistake me with Meliara."

"No, but her too! And that was your second mistake. According to Nita, you leave me in my Aunt's unsolicited company **far **too often."

"An oversight, I'm sure." His tone was demure, but his lovely grey eyes were laughing.

I laughed, and dragged myself up to meet his open arms of welcome. I hugged him tight. Kindred spirit that I've found in him, I'm always sorry to leave his company. I broke away reluctantly and invited him to take a seat on my bed; however, he relegated himself to the chair he pulled up to it.

"It's good to see you, Uncle Danric."

"Yes, well, I'm usually here, so you could come visit me more often, Princess."

"I'm not a princess… I'm not even a countess, yet everyone seems determined to call me that anyways."

"What? Princess?" He asked, narrowing his eyes. "Are you and Meliara plotting to overthrow me again?"

I laughed. "No, you're the only one feeding my delusions of grandeur. Everyone else far too concerned making sure I'm properly turned out **lady**." I lay a strong note of disgust on the last to amuse him. "And Aunt Mel would never do that, though I imagine she'd enjoy you being prisoner."

"She's been recruiting…" he muttered darkly.

I raised an eyebrow, and he laughed.

"So people are calling you Countess. You're heir to the title, Shayla Astiar, and taking care of the estate. Why does it matter if people call you Countess of Tlanth prematurely?"

I gave him a pointed look. "You do remember who holds the title currently…"

He grimaced.

My lips curved. "Found you already, has she?" Nita never wasted much time before toadying up to my aunt and uncle.

"Unfortunately…" Others might have apologized for speaking so of my family, but I had long suspected that the King and Queen had seen what Papa and Kit had missed. Confirmation of suspicions is always nice.

"She giving you trouble, Princess?"

I looked up into shrewd grey eyes, and lied through my teeth as I have been for years. "No, of course not."

He continued to search my face. I knew the moment he saw through the sleep-damaged make-up. His lips thinned. He reached as if to touch the slight shadow, in a strange parallel to Eldenwood, but I turned my head away and stood to go to the window. I looked out onto the rose gardens that bled colour and beauty through their bushes and concealed their thorns.

"You know that they've betrothed me."

_Silence._

I dared not look back, but I suspect he debated whether to let me change the subject. I prayed silently that he would. Finally, he let out a long breath. "I did not, no."

He was angry. My unflappable Uncle Danric was well and truly angry. I was no longer sure I should offer him more ammo against my family.

"Why?"

It was a fair question. Situations such as mine were becoming a rarity. Still, the answer wasn't going to make him any happier.

"If our accounts become any redder, I'll be forced to accuse myself of bleeding on them."

"Lady Anita's doing, I presume." His voice was grim.

I shrugged. "I'm sure there's blame to spread around."

He was silent for a moment.

"You could have asked for help."

I turned to look at him. I could have, yes. I'd even considered it. "It would have gone the same way…"

"I would have helped," his voice was stormy.

"I know."

"You should have asked."

I looked at him squarely. I was a woman, not a child. "Would you have?"

He bit off a curse and dropped his head in his hands. I walked to him and sat opposite on the bed, as I had before. He looked up. His eyes said he was as tired of this as I was.

"I love Bran and your sister, but they are both blind and foolish."

"Unfortunately we still have to love them." I smiled, remembering my spat with Kit.

He muttered something under his breath.

I gave him a rueful smile. "Nothing really changes with this arrangement. Until I come into the title, I have little control over how much is spent by the family. I was coming to court anyway this summer to garner myself a fortune I could control. The betrothal solves that."

"To whom?"

"Eldenwood." I said with a grimace.

"Deric and Elenet's son?"

"Is there another?" I asked, rolling my eyes dramatically. "There can't **possibly** be **another**. The Light is not **that** cruel.

My attempt at humour brought forth a reluctant smile. "I take it you don't get along."

"You could say that."

"Could I indeed?"

"And have it be an understatement too." I quipped.

"Someone to annoy you as much as you annoy me, Princess?"

I glared. "Maybe."

"I like him already."

"You would." I muttered darkly.

He smiled. "I do. I've met him."

Lovely.

"You could do worse, than Lord Eldenwood."

I groaned. Not another one! "**Do not** sing his praises. I **will** puke on you, King or not."

He laughed.

"I have to get married…" I whined.

"It's not a form of death."

"Easy for you to say! You got to marry Aunt Mel! You didn't have to marry your arch enemy! The very bane of your existence!"

"No, Princess, I didn't," he said softly, grey eyes alight with laughter. "I married the woman who thought I was hers."

My mouth opened and hung there as I stared. I'm sure I looked like a stunned fish.

Oh, the things he could have said! But my uncle took pity for once and simply tapped my jaw shut with a finger and dropped a gentle kiss on the top of my head.

At the door he paused and said, "Don't forget about the ball," before dropping the tapestry behind him.

I stared after him. What was I supposed to say to that?

I turned and groaned into my pillow.

* * *

"Why does everyone like you?"

Eldenwood turned and raised a brow at my unexpected accusation. "Do repeat that."

I glared at him, choosing to ignore that, in his black and gold, he looked the picture of the dark, brooding hero my historical romances favoured. I had heard Kitten and Nita praising him on it as I'd turned the corner.

It wasn't difficult to do when he was being deliberately provoking.

Not that I was innocent… I did start the argument.

"You will admit that words were complimentary, even if the tone was not." He bowed a belated courtesy to me.

"On the contrary," I returned, with shallow curtsy, "it was phrased as a question, which implies my either my puzzlement or incredulity. Neither of which is particularly flattering to you."

"I'd prefer to think it the former, for then at least I may hope to coax you out of ignorance." He smirked.

Again, the ignorance barb. _He **does** know me well._

I was about to respond when I felt claws digging into my right wrist. I winced, my captive arm jerking slightly in reaction.

"That's more than enough, Shayla." The Wicked Witch whispered for me alone. "Drive them off and your precious peasants will be paying through their noses." Her nails continuing their journey into my flesh as her grip increased. All the while that her nails bit into my arm she smiled at Eldenwood and his family who were chatting amiably with Papa and Kitten who were equally oblivious.

Only Eldenwood seemed to know that something was wrong, and that may have only been because I never responded to his last insult. As Nita cooed at the Duchies, I watched his golden eyes sweep over me to my step-mother, finally resting where our skirts bunched and concealed her cruelty.

His expression didn't change, but his golden gaze, when it slashed up to mine, was molten with fury. He **knew**.

I stared back, blinking to hold in the tears that threatened to spill onto my cheeks – tears I could not explain. I forced my focus onto Eldenwood, and the pain receded as I struggled to understand what was different about him.

And suddenly it was gone – that golden fire in his eyes – snuffed out in an instant. He walked to us with a small smile on his face. The pain returned in a wave that brought new tears to my eyes. I bit my lip against the instinctive cry of pain.

"Anita, might I have a word with your daughter?"

"I'm not sure that's entirely proper." She hedged, giving me a sharp glance to see if I had solicited his aid.

I merely stared straight ahead.

Eldenwood persisted. "I promise to remain well within sight. Even the most active tongues would not begrudge me a conversation with my Intended in full view of her chaperones."

She relinquished her hold on me abruptly, letting the long, flowing sleeves of our gowns slip into place before moving away to the others. I offered him my left arm as we walked a little ways in the opposite direction.

I exhaled tightly as the stinging pain in my wrist fluxed with my pulse. Her nails had definitely broken skin. The was a distinct trickle of blood. I was tempted to check anyway, but there were more pressing matters to deal with.

I glanced up at Eldenwood, noting that the anger had returned to his eyes.

"What would you speak of?" I asked, hoping that he'd take the hint.

He turned so that he blocked me from view, and took my right arm above the wrist angling it so that the sleeve fell back. My arm was a bloody mess. Five little crescents of pooling blood marred my arm. Rivulets of red had run down to my hand.

"How can I help you?" Eldenwood asked softly.

"What you've done is enough."

"No it's not."

"I'm fine."

He gave a short, disbelieving snort. "Right as rain if blood naturally precipitates from your arm."

I sighed. "It's not a mortal injury."

"Nor is it acceptable."

I shrugged.

"It's not, Shayla." He protested. "Tell me how to help you."

I was tired of fighting. So I told him.

As long as I was not alone with the Wicked Witch all night I would be fine. So we devised a plan.

As we returned to our companions to begin our descent as the guests of honour, I asked the question that had been teasing the edge of my mind. "Why are you doing this?"

Eldenwood studied me for a moment. He made no effort to answer until we were at the head of the grand staircase. "You have beautiful blue eyes, Lady. It hurts me to see them glazed with pain."

I stared at him a moment. Then our names were announced and we began to join the crowd beneath us.

I was halfway down when the dizziness gripped me; I swayed into Eldenwood's arm. He steadied me. Again uncharacteristically nice.

That I was wondering about that when there was clearly something wrong with me just shows my priorities were **way** off…

"What's wrong?" The urgency in Eldenwood's voice snapped me back.

I shook my head. I didn't know the answer. But he was right, something was definitely wrong…

* * *

**A/N:** I SWEAR I WILL UPDATE BEFORE MID AUGUST! Please help me guilt myself into this! I love to hear from reviewers it puts a GIANT smile on my face… like this... : D ... see?

THANKS TO REVIEWERS (ones I can't easily get in touch with…)

Sly, Anonymous, sara-lynn, FreakyDeaky, ILOVEDRACOMALFOY, Barat26, lightyearsaway, anynomous(sp?), Eve, Asha, impatient, Meg, Mary, Kestral, meerea, Cali, rane&#, Charm, jo, Gwendeleryn, Cinnamon, Sheyana, Felsong

_**Erkith**_


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